[insert clever title here]

 "I’m not the only kid who grew up this way.
surrounded by people who used to say that rhyme about sticks and stones.
as if broken bones hurt more than the names we got called,
and we got called them all.
So we grew up believing no one would fall in love with us.
That we’d be lonely forever.
That we’d never meet someone that would make us feel that the sun was something they built for us in their tool shed.
So broken heart strings bleed the blues that we’d try to empty ourselves so we’d feel nothing.
Don’t tell me that hurts less than a broken bone."
-Shane Koyczan
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By Peter Vidani
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